write-me - Chapter 7: Actually, it was Harry and Draco fighting… Draco walked up behind them. Chapter 17: He'll be back… not just yet, but wait.

Believe – Thanks. Don't worry, he'll be back at the end.

Chantal – Thanks a lot! Hey, you wrote an anonymous review, so I don't know which story is yours.

Okay, the next chapter is going to be extra-long and filled with Quidditch, so if you didn't like Chapter 12, you probably won't like this one… Sorry, it's just fun to write about! But don't worry, Sirius will be back in no time at all (you'll see!) and the plot will be moving right along… Hey, what does everyone think of my HP/Discworld idea?  I have another fanfic up now, but this one is much more important, so I'll be working on this a lot more! Okay, time for me to shut up and get on with the story! Best of wishes, -xy.

Chapter 18: Into the Genie's Lamp

            The thought that Sirius was back sustained Harry for the next two months. The first thing he did was to send Hedwig out for him, however he privately doubted she'd find him – Hedwig had never failed to make a delivery before, but Harry suspected that he wasn't altogether in this world. Predictably, Ron and most of the order were more than ecstatic to hear, however both Moody and Hermione were more than a bit worried.

            "That letter came a little late…" warned Hermione. "What if…you know…someone is trying to get you to…well, remember last time you tried to save him?"

            Harry couldn't believe his ears.

            "Hermione, why, right now, just after I got the letter, did you have to bring that up, huh?"

            Hermione pursed her lips, but said nothing more.

            The attack had more than affected most of the school, which was now, as a whole, in a state of panic. Many Gryffindors had been coming up to Harry begging him to restart the DA, but with Professor Artemis's newest classes, Harry decided he didn't need to. Being an undead himself (which he had finally publicly announced – to the abject horror of most of the school – by slowly lowering his hood to show a rotting, yellow-green face with one eye hanging lazily out of his socket and teeth that could impress even some of the most British students at the school), he knew more than a fair share about fighting ghouls, poltergeists (Peeves was quite reluctant to help, and far more unhappy when he discovered that within days half the students in the school knew how to freeze him in midair just as he was about to do some of his nastiest pranks yet), skeletons and (most horrifying of all) great, hulking, demons, with three-pronged tails swinging menacingly behind them and foot-long fangs protruding disgustingly from their cavernous mouths, oozing purple-black goo. Voldemort's threat that it was "only the beginning" was not idle either – mysterious disappearances and murders had even shocked the muggle police, and pictures of "a terrorist far more dangerous than Osama bin Laden" had appeared throughout the muggle world, and, upon seeing the first one, Harry had a vision of Uncle Vernon aiming his rifle at a towering Lord Voldemort, and couldn't really picture it being much help. Still, Hermione had said, any sightings of him could be more than useful to the Order that was now attempting to do damage control, altering the memories of muggles and magically repairing damaged property.

            Remembering Luna's mysterious appearance at night, Harry tried desperately to find her and was able to corner her after a difficult Quidditch practice which would have been inside but for Ron's new spell (which Harry was less than happy with Ron for inventing, as it was quite a bit colder out there even if there wasn't any snow).

            "Luna! Hey, Luna!" Harry yelled through a thinning throng of Ravenclaws, casting aside his heavy Quidditch robes.

            "Hi, Harry," she said dreamily drifting lazily over.

Upon seeing her, Harry jumped up and suppressed a scream. It looked as if there was a large, bright-red, lobster climbing about halfway up Luna's waist-length, straggly, hair. Then, seeing as it was clicking its tail in frustration and occasionally shifting around, but not fully moving, Harry realized that she was using it to clip her hair together. Harry couldn't keep from privately smiling – there was something about Luna that Harry just couldn't describe, that made her somehow special to Harry.

            Harry didn't know exactly how to phrase his question. If what he had seen had just been a dream, asking her straight out if she had been in Harry's room was just plain weird. And what had happened, mused Harry, wasn't exactly typical of Luna – well, Harry could see her wandering into the room accidentally, but she had seemed somehow more focused, together than usual.

            Finally, Harry said, "What kind of night robe do you have, Luna?" quite foolishly. He realized at once that it was probably the weirdest thing of all that he could say, and, if Luna had been any other girl, probably completely improper as well. Luna didn't seem to notice, or, if she did, care.

            "A white one. My roommates hate it because it's really shiny at night. So is that."

            Alarmed, Harry turned around to see where she had suddenly pointed, but it as no more than a glittering snitch that had escaped during practice a few days earlier and was now playfully bothering some second-years who were sending freezing and stunning charms in all directions.

            "Yeah…" said Harry, trying to regain his train of thought. Then something clicked. "Is it really shiny white?"

            "Yes," Luna said distractedly, trying to control the lobster which had just taken a large bite out of the back of her robe and was chewing it loudly.

            "Um… do you know the password into the Gryffindor tower?"

            "Pixius Pixipestrum."

            Harry's mouth sagged. It really was her in the room that night. How had she known all that about how Harry was feeling? How did she even know that Annette and the order existed?

            "How'd you find out?" asked Harry dumbly.

            "Oh, I learned Legilamancy. The password to Hufflepuff is 'Pink Elephant' and the password to Slytherin was changed to 'Good Times' after the attack."

            So that's how she knew so much about him then! She was a mind-reader! But the question that was now buzzing around Harry's mind, as he watched the lobster's antennules lick the exposed part of Luna's back, was why. Why did Luna do that?

            "Why did you do that?"

            "Oh, just for fun. I checked out all the common rooms. Yours is nice, but Hufflepuff has floating clouds you can sit on. You should try them; they're really fluffy and nice until someone throws you out."

            "No, I mean why did you come to my room in the middle of the night?"

            "Oh, because Lavender, who was sleeping down there, woke up and your room was the closest. I had to hide, you know."

            "And you started reading my mind and talking to me about private matters!?" sputtered Harry, outraged.

            Luna looked quite surprised. But then, thought Harry, she always looked quite surprised.

            "I didn't talk to you."

            So it wasn't her? Did that really happen? Was it all a dream?

            "I saw you, you told me I didn't feel loved and…"

            Harry broke off. Luna was looking more confused than ever, which was quite a feat for her.

            "You were talking about green beans. I had a great conversation with you, but it was a bit one-sided… you didn't say too much after that. Of course, Neville was snoring pretty loud, and you were talking into your pillow, so maybe I just didn't hear you."

            "W…what night was this?"

            "Last night… I thought you saw me, how else did you know I was in there?"

            "Did you ever go in there before?"

            "What, into your room? Oh, yeah, I did about two weeks before Christmas."

            So she had been in there. Harry's mind was spinning – it was all so confusing.

            "And you talked to me about being unloved and stuff?"

            "No, I talked to Seamus. You were talking to yourself about being unloved. Well, you said 'Love at first sight' once, but…"

            So she had been in there, but hadn't talked to him…his brain must have just put her in his dream because she was nearby…but he had had other, less important dreams about Luna after that one, even over break, where he doubted Luna had been there…

            "Were those the only two times you went there?"

            "Yes. I can go again if you want me to."

            "No," Harry said, laughing, "that's perfectly alright."

            "Oh, okay…"

            Harry was suddenly embarrassed. The dream had scared him, and though he still loved Amber with all his heart, there was part of his head that said that what the dream said might have been true…and then there was Sirius…was he alive…and then there was the fact that he was talking to someone who had a red tail flicking back and forth in back of her…but she had been so brutally honest, so…so…so open with Harry…why…Luna was a weirdo, but that something about her was bothering Harry again…

            "Well, I'll…uh…see you around," said Harry dumbly.

            "Oh, okay."

            Harry had never really thought Luna capable of lying. There was something honest about her. However, as he watched her ship away, lobster hanging on for dear life, Harry wondered if it had been her talking to him. The dream just seemed so real, and she had admitted being in the room on that night. Harry had half a mind to call out to her, but the other half won out and all he did was raise his arm, reaching confusedly out for her.

            The final Quidditch practice before the tournament happened on the second Thursday night in February. Harry collapsed into bed alongside his Firebolt (which simply didn't have the will or energy to resist anymore, and realized the need of practicing before the game) that night at around 10 o'clock, and could faintly hear Ron doing the same beside him. However, he didn't get to sleep for a while. The next morning at 5:30 he would be off to Switzerland to compete with other teenage witches and wizards from all over the world. He tried to put everything out of his mind: Amber, Annette, (Professor) Artemis, Azkaban, the Cult of the Spider, the Death Eaters, the Drakhen, Dumbledore, the Forgotten, Hermione, the Malfoy twins, Luna, Lupin, the Order of the Phoenix, the Prophecies (there were so many of them these days, Harry didn't know where to start), the (upcoming) Quidditch match, Ron, Sirius, Snape and Voldemort. The only one he failed entirely with was the um… fifth-to-latter of them. All he could think about was going out there in front of witches and wizards throughout the world and doing what he did best: playing Quidditch. Then he remembered when Sirius had come and watched that one game of Quidditch, and the third-to-last on his last was back in his mind. Within ten minutes, he wondered what the purpose of clearing his mind in the first place was, if it all just came back – which only added one more thing on top of the pile of others to his worries.

            When he awoke the next morning, however, he was far from tired. He was so nervous he would have given the world for a bit of Valium. As it was, he was completely unable to eat, and, looking at the other members of the team who were dining with them (the entire team had woken up so early, no one else was eating, so Madam Hooch had sent the house tables aside and conjured a table just for the ten of them) were having much success either. Ron had gone quiet and looked worse than he did before his first Quidditch match. Ginny was doing only marginally better. Adrianne and Hannah were taking turns saying "It'll be alright" without any conviction. Crabbe and Goyle were making more grunting sounds than usual, but were talking just as little. Ernie Macmillan spent five minutes chewing on his fork and staring at his watch before Madam Hooch took pity on him, and it was quite good timing because just as he sat the fork down, it snapped. Madam Hooch herself, however, wasn't looking too good, and although it may have been sleepiness (on any other day, Harry couldn't bear the thought of being up at 5:20), she wasn't yawning. Devin Malfoy was the only one talking, occasionally telling everyone how good he was and how, with them on their team, they would win for sure – he had some new moves, he said.

            Once everyone had spent long enough staring at their uneaten food, Madam Hooch clapped her hands and all the food disappeared from the plates.

            "Well, shall we be going then?" she asked.

            "How are we getting there?" asked Malfoy, who was apparently a member of the Talking Defeats Nerves School of Calming Down.

            Madam Hooch led them away from their food which had just faded from their plates and into an unused classroom on the first floor that was old, dusty and smelled heavily of mold. Harry doubted if the house elves ever cleaned in here and then doubted if Hermione would like to hear that very much. The classroom was pretty empty, and only had one table which twenty chairs had been grouped around. On the center of the table was the only thing in the room that, when Madam Hooch waved her wand and the torch-lined walls erupted in flame, gleamed. Harry shielded his eyes – the thing was brighter than Luna's night robe! It was shaped like a large oil lamp.

            "What's that thing?" inquired Malfoy more loudly than before.

            "It's a genie," explained Madam Hooch, more quietly than before. "It's one of the most effective ways of mass transportation."

            "How about portkeys?"

            "Well, portkeys work, yes. But genies are classier, so they give them to the teams. There is one central genie at the stadium and each of the schools is given one genie of their own. Each genie can be used three times, so it'll be used once for the team, once for spectators, and once to get us all back here."

            "How will spectators not from the schools get in there?"

            "Well, they'll be taking portkeys, of course."

            There was silence for a moment. Then, seeing as there were no more questions, Madam Hooch walked over and rubbed the silver lamp. For a second, Harry couldn't sense anything. Then, Harry felt the prickle of wind on his skin. He began to see the dust around the room slowly trickling toward the lamp. Within seconds, the winds had picked up and it was all Harry could do to keep his footing and a tight hold on his broomstick. A tornado was rising, centered at the tip of the lamp. The wind began to turn blue, and Harry fleetingly wondered if it was the dust, before watching the tornado condense to just above the spout of the lamp. Then, Harry watched as, miraculously, a blue-skinned man about the size of Hagrid erupted from the top of the tornado. He was bald, but had two gigantic, golden earrings in his ears, a nose long enough to impress a goblin, sharp, pointed teeth on his harp, pointed face, and a malicious-looking grin. His body stopped rising halfway up his chest.

            "It's five thirty in the morning," he said in a voice that sounded like…like…like Snape if he was ever happy. "Now, why must you mortal fools awake me from my eternal sleep?"

            "If I was sleeping eternally," said Malfoy boldly, "I'd be happy to wake up."

            The genie's smile sweetened horribly at this.

            "We wish to be sent to the other end," said Madam Hooch, bowing her head.

            "Ah, so you're the Hogwarts Quidditch team, I suspect…hmmm…" He gave them each a piercing gaze in turn before returning his yes to Madam Hooch. "Well, not as impressive as the Daumstrung or Korean School of Wizardry's teams, but you certainly look like more than any of the Australian teams… I wish you luck."

            He gave sort of a strange, almost sarcastic bow, as if he would rather be doing anything but this and sank into the tornado again. The blue light faded from the tornado, and, as Harry watched in amazement, the tornado expanded. This time, Harry couldn't resist. Keeping a tight hold of his Firebolt, he went spinning in along with the rest of the team, getting smaller and smaller as he approached the tip of the lamp. He flew head-first into it, watching the musty room disappear, as the little of the breakfast he was able to eat came rising (falling?) into his mouth. He spun in complete darkness for a few seconds and then flew right-side-up out of a much larger, golden, lamp inside a large, completely empty, stone room.

            Once the team had all crashed unceremoniously to the ground and did their best to collect themselves, Madam Hooch led them out of the room and into hazy, early-morning sunlight.

            She led them through a courtyard. Looking around, Harry saw a strange collection of buildings. Behind them was a large stone keep with the words "ENTRANCE HALL" floating in the air above it. Nearby were a windmill and a stone château overlooking a large field that was dotted with quintessential middle ages huts. Up the hill was what looked like a gigantic resort hotel taken right out of Florida. It was at least fifty stories and was surrounded by palm trees. Harry could see a gigantic pool and spa. Next to that was the exact same stadium that had been used for the Quidditch World Cup, complete with gigantic wood walls and the magical scoreboard. If there were any three sets of buildings that didn't go together it was these three. To top it all off, many of the hotel room balconies were dotted with obvious signs of wizardry – thousands of multicolored birds flew around one room, and a tree was growing sideways out of another.

            Madam Hooch led them into the hotel, which, upon seeing the title Holliday Inn, Harry became completely sure that it had been barrowed for the occasion, and up to the desk where they checked in and were given rooms – three to a room, with Madam Hooch getting her own master suite. The three girls bunked up together, and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle set off up their room.

            "Well, I guess I'm stuck with you two," Harry said, grinning at Ernie Macmillan and Ron.

            Their room had a nice view of the beach (which Harry hadn't seen from outside), and was quite large with three beds and its own bathroom and kitchen. Room service, a pair of American muggle maids that had the dazed look of recent memory modification, brought them some food.

            "Well, this ain't too bad."

            They slept until 11:30, when they got up, had a silent lunch (well, tried, even Malfoy was unable to eat at this point, he confident air was more than gone) and prepared for their 1:30 game against their first competitor, the Omungabunga School, located in the Amazon. When Harry returned to his room, he saw his Firebolt dart back in the window and hang both eagerly and nervously next to him. It mirrored what Harry was felling, as he picked it up and went back to the elevator.

            Madam Hooch, Ron and Ernie couldn't go with him, so Harry joined the rest of the team in the lobby. They were ushered by a bored-looking wizard in purple robes into the changing rooms at their side of the stadium. The entire room was marble with gold lockers and colored sparkles floating above them. Seven showers were each 15' x 15' with beaded curtains that Harry assumed had an Impervius charm to ward off water. Pink bubbles flitted around the inside of the marble showers like fairies and rainbow-tinted water dripped from the shower heads. Ten-inch thick 10' x 10' towels that Harry could picture himself rolling around in hung from gigantic wooden racks along the walls. The room was luxurious, but Harry couldn't enjoy the full effect through his anxiety.

            Seven black robes that had a gigantic Hogwarts crest on the back hung from golden hangers on the opposite side from the showers. Silently, the whole team pulled them on, and joined moments before the match near the big oak doors which would open, signaling their time

            "Are you ready?" asked Hannah hoarsely, giving a weak smile at the other eight.            We're here, thought Harry. We're here, we're just about to fly out that door where thousands of witches and wizards will be watching and applauding our first match. If we win this, there will be another. And another. And another. And then, after three more qualifications match, if we win, we'll be flying out to millions of wizards.

            Malfoy yelled, "Yeah!"

            If we win… I shouldn't think that way. It's not if we win, but when we win. After all, look at us. We're some of the best teenage Quidditch players in the world. We'll win for sure, I just know it.

            Crabbe and Goyle gave simultaneous grunts of assent.

            This is it, and this is my moment. I'm the best seeker Hogwarts has had since my father, right? This is my moment to prove myself, to fly out there and catch that snitch in ten seconds, to show that applauding crowd out there that I'm the best there is.

            Adrianne smiled.

            No, this is our moment. We're a team and together we can do this. Every one of us is going to jump onto our broomstick and fly out there, waving to the crowd and playing Quidditch. Because it's a game. It's just a game, and we're here to play and have fun.

            Ginny swallowed and nodded.

            We can do this. Because, looking at these people here, I know that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if we look stupid in front of all those people out there or if we win, or we lose. All that matter is that we play this game and we play our best. Nothing can stop us now, we can do it. They can do it. I can do it. We can go out there and play this game.

            Harry mounted his broom and watched the oak door slowly open.